Lonely Vigil
by Griselda Banks
Summary: Oneshot. Alphonse is alone at night. Always, always alone. How in the world can even someone as close as his brother reach him across such a great chasm? If you suggest this is Elricest, I may just freak out at you.


**Author's Note: This is sort of a companion piece to "Alone at Night", even though there was a long gap in between the writing of the two. It took a long time for me to decide just what I wanted to happen in this one, but I'm satisfied now.**

"G'night, Al," Edward Elric said, slipping underneath the covers.

"Goodnight," Alphonse, his little brother, replied, already in his bed. Unfortunately, his legs were so long that they stuck out on the other side of the blanket that hardly covered his shiny metal torso. Al turned his head to look at his brother, so small by comparison. Ed fidgeted for a while, rolling over to find the most comfortable position and flipping his long golden hair out behind him, but soon he settled down and fell asleep.

Al looked away with a sigh. It was so lonely when his brother fell asleep. When Ed was awake, they could talk, or simply sit in companionable silence, but when he was asleep... Well, then Al was alone. Lying in a bed, half-covered by a blanket, didn't help matters at all. It only made him long for what he didn't have, and covet what came to his brother so easily.

Many times, Al thought that perhaps the reason he was so much more level-headed than his older brother was because of all the time he had to think. For at least eight hours every day (and often more, what with all the naps Ed took), Al was left to the solitude of his private thoughts. He would think about alchemy, or try to puzzle out a recent problem. Sometimes he would reminisce to himself about happy days, or worry about what their future held in store for them.

Al didn't mind these things so much. It was nice, sometimes, to be able to sort out his thoughts in silence without his brother's cynicism or prejudices to influence him. No, that wasn't so bad. What Al didn't like were the thoughts that entered his mind later in the night. Around midnight, the darkness and utter silence would start to get to him. As a child, he had always been scared of the dark, a fear that had persisted even to the age of nine. And then he had been encased in this slumberless prison, with no way to escape the darkness.

The darkness in the room wasn't all. He knew that if he was to look inside his chest, he would see a gaping blackness, like a black hole that sucked all light and warmth into it. Horrible thoughts would enter his mind, thoughts concerning what this black hole must be sucking into itself, or what its emptiness signified. The blackness was sucking everything, all life and happiness, into it, including his soul. His soul was being sucked away into an emptiness as terrible as the Gate, and the emptiness was consuming him. His thoughts chased each other around in circles, till he hardly knew himself anymore. Had he thought he was more rational than his brother because of these quiet nights? Really, it was a wonder others couldn't see his madness during the day.

Most nights, Al lay in torment for the rest of the night, trying to hold onto some small measure of sanity that would save him from the darkness that was dragging him down. But this night, he heard the clock strike two o'clock, and decided he just couldn't take it anymore. Trying not to make too much noise, he sat up and looked over at his brother, who was still sleeping soundly. How could he be lying there, so still and calm, untroubled by haunting thoughts of what was reality and what was not?

The barrier between the two brothers, normally not much more than a simple layer of metal, seemed thicker than two stone walls. Ed tried to understand what it was like, he really did. But who could truly understand what Al felt like except he himself? At the same time, Al began to fear that he no longer truly understood what it was like to be in his brother's position. What was it like to be human? He could hardly feel the fear at such a thought. Had he truly forgotten what it was to be human? What was it like to sleep, to feel, to eat? Al's thoughts became frantic. More in an attempt to run away from those thoughts than for any other reason, Al got to his feet and strode over to a corner of the room that was bathed in moonlight. Here he could be safe, safe from his thoughts and the cloying darkness that threatened to overpower him. Al curled up as small as possible, but he was a suit of armor after all, and his body was still enormous.

Al wanted to shiver with fear, but his body was still. Somehow, he thought that if perhaps he had teeth to chatter, it would relieve a little of the fear deeply embedded in his soul. As the minutes ticked by, he watched the moonlight retreat from his corner as the shadows and the darkness advanced. They were like two armies, and the moonlight was vastly outnumbered. Al silently begged the light not to leave him, but the light had no choice. The darkness swallowed him again, and what had once been the brightest corner became the darkest, as the clock struck four o'clock.

Several minutes later, Al heard sounds coming from his brother's bed. The moonlight was now lighting up that section of the room, so Al could clearly see his brother sit up, rubbing his eyes, and get out of bed. Al watched his brother stumble over towards the door leading to the bathroom. The door closed, and light appeared in the crack at the bottom. If Al had been able to breathe, he would have done so more easily. Somehow, the very ordinary, everyday sounds of his brother moving about the bathroom, the water briefly turned on, and the toilet flushing dispelled the ghostly specters whispering to Al. Everything returned to normal in the room. The shadows were just that – shadows. The darkness was a natural part of night, and Al was a suit of armor sitting in the corner.

The door opened again, and Ed was briefly silhouetted against the blinding bathroom light, before it was switched off and he crossed the room again to his bed. He sat on the edge, but before he lay back down he looked across at Al's empty bed and stopped. For a long time he simply sat there, staring expressionlessly at the dented pillow and discarded blanket. Finally, he spoke, in a husky, sleep-ridden voice. "Worse tonight?"

Al didn't answer, because he didn't know how. To say 'no' would be a lie, but to answer 'yes' almost seemed like admitting the darkness and shadows had won. Al was not prepared to do that; it felt like betraying the moonlight, his only friend during these long nights. And then, too, he was surprised that his brother had asked that question in the first place. He had thought that his nightly torments were largely unknown to his brother. Ed usually was, after all, asleep through most of them. But it seemed he knew all the same.

When Al made no reply, Ed got to his feet again and crossed the room. He grabbed Al's blanket as he passed, and sat down in the corner next to Al. Though he knew Al couldn't feel cold, he draped the blanket over both of their laps, and leaned against Al's arm. At first, Al thought he had gone to sleep. But suddenly he said, "You know, Al... Sometimes I get nightmares."

"I know," Al whispered, remembering the times when Ed would whimper or cry out in his sleep. It always frightened him even more; people talking in their sleep had unnerved him for years.

"Well...I'd like to ask you a favor. When you see that I'm having a nightmare, could you...wake me up? I don't like my nightmares."

"I promise I'll do that," Al replied softly. He sensed that this lonely vigil he was assigned would still be less lonesome than the torment he endured most nights. With something to do other than mull over his own problems, he just might be able to escape his despair.

Al looked down and smiled deep in his soul when he saw that Ed had fallen asleep. Somehow, with his brother there beside him, the corner seemed filled with light again.


End file.
